She Lives in the Present
by Monkeystarz
Summary: Oneshot, dedicated to the rebirth of nations and the decisions every human has to make, and how love can be deserted and found again.


**A/N: So im not sure how to continue Rub a Dub Dub Mione in a Tub..b/c.. Well…I was a different person then.. so.. im just going to write this one shot.. and maybe.. Maybe update some other stories. MAYBE.**

**Anyway I'm not sure how this one-shot id going to go r the pairing or if it will be funny or angst.. I just wanted to write. I love you all!!**

If there was one thing in this entire world that had to be true, it was that Hermione Granger loved to read. And not just certain genres, she loved to read everything. No matter who wrote it or its contents, if it was in a book her eyes and mind were drawn to it instantly.

Which is how she found herself reading a rather disturbing article in a muggle newspaper, the heading read "Weird prison found on the outskirts of Scotland!".

Now this was not only disturbing because the muggles had found it, but it was equally disturbing that all the prisoners in the "mysterious cells" had apparently spell-bound the explorers into releasing them all, which meant, in an even more disgruntled way that Draco Malfoy had escaped.

Oh the joy of irony.

It was ironic in the way that just a few weeks earlier Hermione, being the reader she is, had discovered a note found on her doorstep, underneath the un-enchanted "welcome" mat, from Draco Malfoy, nonetheless.

In his letter he had described how his days were spent, mostly starring at the bars before him silently regretting his past involvement with Voldemort, and how he never got to explain things properly to Hermione when he had left her the morning of the battle.

However he made no excuse in his letter to the latter statement, which had puzzled Hermione endlessly. Certainly someone who would bring the subject up would further pursue it as to explaining why he did what he did on that dreadful day, but no, not Draco the mysterious.

She mused that it was probably because no matter what his excuse she would never forgive him for going to the dark side at the last minute. And he knew her so well as to know that. However, having an even better reason to scoff and glare at his pictures would have been much appreciated, and yet again he probably knew that, and being the bloody devil he was he would never have given her the pleasure.

After finishing his letter she had stowed it away in a hiding place, so that Ron could never find it, not that he even would of looked.

She continued reading the article and upon finishing it she rolled the newspaper up and disposed of it properly.

She sat herself down at her kitchen table, silently contemplating how her life had been since the last battle. How her friends had died, along with her mentors and the school she had learned to call "home". She mentally drew pictures in her heads of the long-deceased faces and longed to hear their lyrical voices once again.

Her heart sank even deeper into her chest when Draco's picture spun around in her head, she hated him yes, but had once come to enjoy his company, and yes even grow fond of him. At one point she might have admitted she had extremely strong feelings for him and had suspected he had returned them to her as well. And on their last night together he had even hugged her tenderly to him, holding her as if she was the most precious thing to him.

But none of that mattered anymore.

He had killed the most important people to her, he had destroyed her life and the lives of her friends, and she could never forgive him.

And she knew he never expected her too, in fact he probably basked in the glory of her hatred for him. In some odd way it probably had kept him sane all through his years in Azkaban, either that or the fact that he was already deranged when he went in.

She stood up from the table and found herself walking towards the window of her four-bedroom home. The only window that showed the wizarding world that lay to left of her home. The only window that let her view the rebirth of life after a devastating destruction, and somehow she knew.

She knew that he was out there, looking at her, pondering the same memories that played in her head. Knowing that all her well-thought conclusions were indeed accurate.

She heard the kitchen door open and she felt the familiar presence of her husband as he walked to stand beside her, and as she looked into his clear blue eyes she knew she had made the right choice.

No matter how difficult it had been.

Glancing once more out the window she smiled, a smile that she knew would never be forgotten. A smile she knew that would never be overlooked.

She took the hand of her husband and closed the blinds as the sound of her redheaded children ran down the steps to the breakfast table.

She loved her husband and her children and she hated him.

She hated him so much, yet his face always seemed to bring itself to her mind.

Draco Malfoy lived in the pat. A past filled with heartbreak and death, a past where love's power was not as strong as it was suppose to be. A past where there was really no wining side, or right or wrong. A past where her old self had died.

Hermione Granger lived in the present. She lived for the laughter of her children, for the rebirth of her people, and for the love of her husband. She lived in a present full of dreams and hopes.

This present world would never be a place for him. His time was over, and she knew that he knew it too.

**A/n: Yeah so I don't own any Harry potter characters or anything.**

**And I realize this sucked but all well, please review!!!**


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